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Bernhardt, Sarah, 1845-1923

"The Idol of Paris"

Climbing flowers interlaced in the branches, making
flecks of pink and white and violet. It was an ideal refuge from the
heat and the wind. Maurice and Genevieve walked on ahead. Esperance
and Albert sat down on the high point of rock that dominated the
little landscape. For an instant they looked quietly without speaking.
Albert broke this restless silence, and said, as he took Esperance's
hand, "I love you, Esperance, and I will do all that is in my power or
beyond it to make you happy."
"I believe you, Albert, and I hope to be worthy of so devoted a love."
He looked at her very penetratingly. "I know that you are not yet in
love with me."
"I do not know just how I love you, my dear, but I should always have
turned to you if I had been in trouble."
"Have you never been in love?"
"No, I have been and am deeply touched by Jean Perliez's devotion, but
I have never thought of the possibility of being happy with him."
"And the other?" asked Albert, looking straight at her with his clear
eyes.
She did not answer at once.
"The Duke?"
"Yes, the Duke."
"I do not love him," she answered frightened. "At moments I even hate
him, and...."
"And?" insisted the young man, pressing the hand he was still holding.
"... I am happy to be your fiancee!!!"
Her voice vibrated, her eyes were tender with gratitude.
During the dinner Countess Styvens announced that she must go next
day.
"I will take my mother to Brussels," said Albert, "and if you will
permit me, I will return immediately.


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